


Paying The Rent

by HappiKatt



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: "would it really matter" stage, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, But To No Avail, Dysphoria, Fantasy Racism, First Meetings, Gen, Hints of Caleb having a rough past, Homeless Wizard Keeps Shoving Foot Farther In Mouth, Illustrated, Its only hinted at what happened in this au tho, Mental Health Issues, Please Make Him Stop Locals Cry, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Poverty, So much of that im so sorry, Suicidal Thoughts, calebs homeless and nott adopts him thats the fic, gonna be a series that updates whenever i get the Itch, in this oneshot anyway, or at least suicidal-adjacent, theres a good bit of caleb getting to that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:53:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappiKatt/pseuds/HappiKatt
Summary: Caleb Widogast has been on the run for a long time. The streets have been his sanctuary from a past he fears pursues him, relentlessly. Winter is coming on, promising to be a cold one, and he is very, very tired.So, when a goblin offers him a warm and dry place to stay the night in exchange for a button he doesn't quite remember finding, he takes her up on it.He didn't expect to find something worth staying for.Modern AU but with magic;  probably gonna be a series of oneshots.





	Paying The Rent

**Author's Note:**

> so i figured this was gonna be about 10k words when i started and what we have learned here children is that im terrible at guessing my own word count 
> 
> also please let me know if theres anything i should tag that i didnt i hope i got everything. please mind the warnings this isnt the darkest thing i've written by a long shot but it gets heavy at times

This was not a part of Zadash he was familiar with. Which was not saying much. He’d been here for weeks, now, wandering the streets and always looking for the next place to sleep as he went on…trying to figure out what exactly it was that he was _doing_ here, and, well. The city was just so _big,_ and there was so _much_ of it. So many tall buildings reaching towards the sky, so many cars on the paved roads, so many lights glowing with enchantments or electricity or sometimes both, so many _people…_

That shouldn’t have phased him. He’d spent years of his life in Rexxentrum, which he knew to be even bigger. But that had been so long ago now, and to a heart aching for the simpler times he’s spent as a child in tiny, rural Blumenthal, Zadash felt like a different world. 

And this part of the city felt different still. This part of town did not seem to be a very good one, and that _was_ saying something, because the other part he’d been in had been full of homeless people like himself. They’d been mostly human or partially human, though; there’d still been far more of the likes of orcs and goblins and other creatures of unfamiliar shapes there than he’d ever seen before in his life, but it was still nothing to this place. He was fairly certain he could count the number of humans he’d seen in the past few days on one hand. Mostly he’d run into the kinds of creatures that he’d always known existed in cities now but had never really encountered personally, not even in his time in Rexxentrum. In his days at the academy, he’d shared a classroom with a half elf descended from the drow, and thought that something extraordinary. This morning, he’d briefly shared the bench at a bus stop with what he was fairly certain had been a young manticore. 

(He’d not ended up getting on the bus, then. Didn’t have very much money, and besides, he wasn’t sure where he was going. He wasn’t sure where he _was._ )

It wasn’t because of the monsters that this part of town seemed bad, though. Hardly. They had as much right to exist as anyone else. It was more that the buildings seemed to loom, cold and harsh compared to the brighter lights of the rest of the city. Parts of the roads seemed badly maintained, although not quite so full of potholes and such as some of the back roads back in Blumenthal. Some of the buildings looked entirely abandoned (which at least made for a good shelter, in a pinch; he’d slept in a few of them these past few nights). Along the sidewalk he walked now, covered in cracks and weeds, the street lights looked poorly maintained, and he found himself stopping at one whose enchantment was failing; the light was flickering dangerously low. 

A cold wind whipped around his ankles, reminding him of what it was he was doing right now—seeking out someplace just out of the wind that he had a chance to survive the night. Harder said than done, out here, with very little money to his name and the clothes on his back largely in tatters. (He kept meaning to use the needle and thread he kept in his pack to fix some of the holes, he really did, but the holes kept happening faster than he could patch them, and there were so _many,_ and it was harder and harder to care. He deserved tattered clothing. He deserved to look like rubbish. Maybe he was in precisely the right part of the city, all things considered.) It had drizzled briefly, earlier, too; he was probably going to be sleeping someplace damp no matter what. That was okay, he’d survived hard winters before, and right now it was only fall. 

There was a narrow alley right here, by the failing street light. It’d do, probably. There looked to be enough old rubbish to block out any of the wind that the two buildings didn’t, probably. It’d have to be enough. 

And if it wasn’t, well. Nothing he’d been working for had led to anything real, and with all that he’d done, maybe freezing in some alley was about what he deserved. 

The thought snuck in without his consent as he settled himself on the least damp spot he could find. He wrapped his coat around himself closer and shivered. 

“I’ll be fine,” he murmured to himself. “I have lived through worse.” 

Did he really deserve to survive this, though? After everything? There was no way to change it, he’d spent almost the last of his money to learn that, the kind of magic it would take to undo his crimes simply no longer existed, and to even begin to repair the damage he had done would be an insurmountable task. Maybe the world would be better off without him. 

“I should still try something,” he whispered into the darkness, uselessly battling his own thoughts. He folded his arms around himself tighter, wishing desperately that he could have at least held Frumpkin for a bit of comfort. But the cat had met the underside of the wheel of a truck some time ago, and there’d been no chance of him getting the materials he needed to bring him back. He was alone out here, utterly.

And he was tired, so tired… 

In the darkness, his breath rising slowly, he sat and battled his own thoughts as the sun sunk lower and lower. The period passed with an out-of-body timelessness to him, but when the little voice snapped him back to reality, the clock in his mind told him that 32 minutes had passed. 

“Hey, did you hear me…? Are you alright?” came the little voice again, pulling him away from his thoughts. He glanced up. 

 

 

 

Crouched on a low rung of a fire escape directly overhead, staring down at him with wide, wary eyes, was…someone. She was in a lot of baggy clothing, and with the alley being as dark as it was, it was hard to pick out just what she was at first. But with the big eyes, the large ears, and the slowly waving tail, she had to be a goblin. She was watching him, patiently, waiting for a response. 

“…Hallo,” he said, equally wary. 

“Hi,” she said back, continuing her expectant look. 

A beat passed. 

“Um, right, you asked if, ah,” he stammered, looking away. He had never been good at eye contact, and it was even harder with such an intense stare. “I am, ah…I have been better, but. Probably I have also been worse?” 

“Are you hurt?” she said. “Or just lost? This isn’t a great place to be sleeping outside, especially when it’s this cold out.” She cast a look at his clothing, and something in her expression softened. 

He could have laughed. This was where his life was now— a _goblin,_ of all things, was taking pity on him. 

“You are right about that,” he said softly. “I am…lost, yes, I suppose, but I do not think you can help me with that. I don’t know where I would be going even if I was more sure of where I am.” 

“Can you retrace your steps?” the goblin said, helpfully. 

“In my sleep,” he said, “but that will not help me now.” He clenched his jaw for a moment, and then stood. Doing so left him several feet short of the goblin, but he at least did not have to crane his neck quite so much to see her. “Do you know any place I could spend the night, by any chance?” he asked. “It does not have to be good, just out of the wind. I will gladly take whatever shelter I can find.”

She narrowed her eyes and scooted her feet a bit closer together. “…What can you give me in exchange?” she said, after a moment. 

His heart sank. Not so merciful as he’d hoped, then. “Not much,” he said, “I have very little money on my person.” 

“It doesn’t have to be money,” she said. “Just…something. If I’m going to let you sleep in my apartment, I want something to prove that you’re not just trying to get in and steal from me.” 

“You don’t have to let me come in your apartment,” he said, holding his hands up. “That is—I just want to know if you know somewhere nearby that is better, to—“ 

She shrugged. “Not really,” she said. “My place isn’t all that much better, honestly. But it keeps most of the wind out—well, it keeps some of the wind out, and it’s dry, and I’ve got blankets, so it’d be warmer. It’d be better than you being out here muttering to yourself and freezing.” 

He paused. “So you…so you want me to give you something, and you will just…let me stay the night in your home?” 

Another shrug. “Yeah,” she said, “It’ll be kind of like paying rent, sort of. I mean, neither of us trusts each other, but you need a place to stay, and you might have something I want, and this way I have a little more reason to trust that you’re not here to rob me blind.” 

He blinked, and then stifled a laugh in his hand. 

“I will…see what I have,” he said, shaking his head and sorting through his pockets. He had precious little; the things he had that were of any value he did not intend to give away, and the rest was largely useless scraps and spell components. Strips of fabric, a marble he had nearly slipped on, a shiny button with an interesting pattern across it, a few feathers…After a bit of rummaging through his pockets, pulling out odds and ends, she stopped him. 

“What’s that?” she said, leaning forward enough for him to spy a mouth full of sharp teeth. 

He held his hand up with the few small scraps in it. The goblin hooked her legs around the bottom rung of the ladder and flipped herself down closer, and he finally got the chance to get a good look at her. 

He knew the history as well as anyone. As civilization had spread, and technology improved, all of the creatures that had once lurked by roadsides or in wild places, earning themselves names like Monsters and Beasts, had been forced to change their ways or perish. Many had retreated further back, into the few wild places still left untouched by urban spread, but many others had tried their best to adapt. Orcs and goblins in particular were not uncommon at all in cities, even if he had not seen many prior to becoming homeless. 

Most goblin clans that had turned to city life, as he understood it, put a great deal of effort into seeming…respectable. Those who could afford it put in extensive dental work on their young, to avoid the famous jutting teeth of the goblin invaders of old, and regardless of class they all tried to stand up straight, to dress like humans, to fit into society with as little friction as possible. They were known to be quiet, dutiful workers, mostly keeping out of peoples’ way and seeking to draw as little attention to themselves as possible, to blend in. 

This little goblin looked like she might have walked out of the woods yesterday compared to the ones he had met. She moved a bit wild, like an animal—a cat, he thought, with a hint of amusement, she reminded him of a cat—and he could see some scars on her face and hands. Her ears were full of holes, too, and her teeth were crooked, jutting out of her mouth. Usually goblins these days were pretty meticulous about their appearance, in his experience. She might have stepped straight out of an old storybook, were it not for the very modern clothes she wore—a gray hoodie that was much too big for her, falling over her hands enough that she had to roll up her sleeves to dig through his meager offerings, and some loose-fitting sweat pants. There was a strip of bandage over her nose, for some reason.

For all that her appearance called back to the old stories he’d grown up hearing, about terrible goblins stealing and eating children in the night, he found that he didn’t feel scared. He should have. She may have been worried that he would steal from her, but he should have been afraid of the prospect of seeking refuge in a stranger’s house and finding a knife slid between his ribs in his sleep. Somehow, he didn’t. 

Especially as she pulled the button out of his cupped hand and drew it closer to her face with a bright look. He must have come across it during one of the few cloudy patches of his memory, because he didn’t remember finding it. 

The goblin grinned at him, putting her prize in the pocket of her hoodie, and scrambled back upright. “This’ll do,” she said, scurrying up the ladder. 

“What, really?” he asked. 

“Sure!” she said. “Hold on, I’m letting the ladder down all the way so you can climb up.” 

“It is—“ He had to stop, as the sound of the ladder noisily clanking down interrupted him. He started up again when it had settled. “It is only a button, I can surely find something better than that.” 

“It’s only one night, and the rent’s pretty cheap here, anyway,” the goblin said, out of sight as he climbed up. “Just about the only good thing about this place,” she muttered under her breath. 

He decided not to comment.

Once he was up the ladder, she pulled it back into place and ushered him up a flight of rickety stairs to an open window. There was no light on inside that he could see, but he followed her in anyway. 

“So, um,” she said, “there’s no power right now, because I’m kind of between jobs for the moment? But it’s not too drafty on this side of the building, most of the time, and it’s dry, and like I said, I have blankets you can use, if you want. The couch is all yours!” 

As she spoke, he took stock of the room. There was not much to see. A small kitchenette in one corner, with a mini-fridge he hoped was empty, and a sink and counter that looked far too big for the goblin; a table with a single chair, also built for someone much taller; a couch, and a short hallway that looked to have only two doors, one of which he assumed must have been her room. The walls were undecorated, and the place was largely bare, but the goblin had tried to make the place feel a little more lived in with a small cup holding some dying flowers on the table and a very battered rug thrown down in the middle of the floor. 

“Thank you,” he said, grateful. “You can keep your blankets, though, you’ve already done enough.” 

“My name’s Nott,” she said, tail waving anxiously back and forth. “It’s nice to meet you, um…” 

Gods, it had been a while since someone had asked. A few months, at least. 

“…Caleb Widogast,” he said. 

She nodded. Silence fell, heavy and uncomfortable.

“Alright, well, I’m going to bed,” she said. “Bathroom’s on the left in that little hallway, um, you can get a cup out of the cabinet over the sink if you’re thirsty, uh…Let me know if you need anything?” 

“I should be fine,” he said, settling onto the couch, weary to his bones. 

“Okay. Good. Alright.” The goblin seemed to try to say something else, and then think better of it, scurrying off to her room. Caleb closed his eyes. 

He thought he heard a soft “goodnight” and the click of a door closing before he let sleep take him. 

 

* * *

Caleb woke up the next day at 2:38 in the afternoon, to the sound of driving rain rattling against the window. He lay there for a long while, staring at the ceiling and letting the sound of the storm play as background noise, hovering in the fuzzy space between sleep and wakefulness. 

Eventually, however much he would have preferred otherwise, consciousness won out and made him aware of the world, of where he was and what he had before him. 

Gods, what _did_ he have before him? What could possibly come next? He had no idea what he could possibly do next to trudge slowly towards his goal, not after his last idea had come to such a harsh dead end. The goblin’s appearance had been…something, at least. He didn’t believe in fate, didn’t want to, but at the very least the whims of random chance had deigned to give him a way to keep living, so it would be a waste not to push onward, but how? 

A faint breeze stirred his hair. This room was a good bit draftier than Nott had led on. Strangely, only his face felt cold, though…? Hm. He shifted, and became aware of a blanket draped over him. That was…that was thoughtful of her. 

He looked towards the window, the only source of a cold blue light in the powerless apartment, and spotted some rain leaking in through the cracks around the window. Even with the rain, it was light enough that he got a better look at the sparse room, and winced at what he saw. Whoever owned this building had not done a good job of maintaining it. The awful patterned wallpaper was peeling in places, and the floor was covered in a hard mass of fabric that could hardly be called a carpet. It was rubbed bare of even that in places. 

(Someone in circumstances as dire as this had looked on him with pity. Ha. He really must look pathetic, then.) 

With a groan and the popping of several bones—he was only thirty one, gods damn it, he should not feel this old yet—he got to his feet. Stretched. Got a glass of water, and stared for a while out the window at the rain rolling down. 

There was a note on the table. He peered down at it, and saw, in tight but surprisingly tidy handwriting, a message: 

 

_“Caleb:_

_Had to go to work. I’ll be back at about seven. Hope I didn’t wake you, you seemed very tired. There’s some food in the pantry; it’s not much and the microwave isn’t working because the power’s off so if you want that you’ll have to ask Zhal next door if you can borrow his, or you can just help yourself to whatever else you find, I guess? There’s not much to do here, sorry, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Really do feel free to eat, though, I realized I wasn’t sure if you ate anything yesterday, since I didn’t feed you, so, yeah, go right ahead! Stay warm, the weather’s supposed to be really bad all day!_

_Nott”_

 

That was…kind of her. 

The pantry looked like she mostly kept snacks there, some of which appeared to have drawn the attention of some mice. Again he lamented Frumpkin’s absence; maybe he could have thanked her a bit for her kindness by reducing her pest problem to some small degree, but alas. He picked out something small and ate in silence, thinking over what exactly he was going to do next. 

He was not looking forward to facing the storm outside, but he’d already taken up so much of Nott’s warm hospitality. He should try to be gone before she returned. 

But…first, he could…he could at least check over his notes. Yeah. Couldn’t do that out in the rain, his journal would be soaked through. 

He spent a couple hours checking over his journal, even if he already had everything within committed to memory, as if rereading his own notes would somehow make the bits and pieces he’d collected line up into a new order that would magically repair everything. Made a few more notes. Looked through his spellbook, even if he didn’t intend to risk using any magic, just so that he had some spells prepared in case of an emergency…

At one point, curiosity got the better of him. He peered into Nott’s bedroom, just to see…Not much, as it turned out. A twin-sized bed shoved into one corner, with a mattress leaking stuffing and a haphazard pile of blankets and pillows on top of it arranged into something like a nest. There was a small crate with no lid, tipped onto its side and apparently serving as a bedside table. On it was a flashlight and a small collection of…miscellaneous bits and pieces, it seemed. A shard of broken pottery, a colorful handkerchief, things of that nature. He could see the button he’d given her in with the lot. 

She was a collector of useless but pretty items, then, it seemed. Good to know. 

Feeling guilty for invading her privacy, he returned to the main room and went over his journal again, wishing for the rain to _stop_ already so that he would be out of excuses not to move on. He had to move on, he couldn’t stay in one place for long, they would _find_ him…

Were they even still chasing him, any of the hounds that had been at his heels? Did they all think he was dead? Could he take the risk that they weren’t? 

…No. He had to keep moving. 

Once the rain stopped. 

Seven in the evening snuck up on him, somehow, even despite the ever-ticking clock in his mind. He didn’t even realize how long he’d procrastinated until he heard a key in the lock and swore quietly to himself, shoving his journal into a hiding spot. 

Nott trudged in, holding a soaking wet umbrella and a bag that smelled faintly of food, something cheap and probably unhealthy, but at the very least _hot_. She didn’t seem to notice him at first, mumbling to herself and opening a closet to kick off her shoes. Trying to be quiet, he slipped off the couch, and managed to step directly on an extremely creaky floorboard. 

Nott’s ears shot up straight and she turned to look at him, mouth open and one shoe halfway off.

“You’re still here,” she said, after a long moment. 

Caleb winced internally. Gods, he’d really meant to be gone before she had to kick him out. He was not one to risk overstaying his welcomes, normally, he really wasn’t. But before he could say so, before he could apologize, she smiled. 

“You’re still here,” she said again, more softly, and then shook her head. “Um, I only grabbed enough food for one person, while I was out, but there’s a little convenience store I could run to across the street, or you could just have this” she gestured to the little bag she held, “and I’ll dig some snacks out of the pantry, I’m sure you’re probably hungry—have you eaten? I left a note, there is food, I—“ 

“Wait, wait, you do not—you don’t need to worry about food for me, I’m fine,” he said. “I mean, I would not say no, but I’m not going to take your own dinner away from you.” 

“There’s a store just a little way down the street, it’s fine!” Nott said, pressing the bag into his hand. 

“That is—“ she was already getting her shoes back on, apparently already having made her mind up. “Nott, I appreciate that you are kind enough to make sure I’ve eaten before we part ways, but this is really unnecessary.” 

She stopped, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. “Part ways? Caleb, you can’t honestly mean you’re going to leave _now._ ” 

“…Yes? I mean, I only paid for one night’s stay, that was the deal, no?” 

One of Nott’s ears twitched in bemusement. “I mean, sure, technically, but I’m not gonna kick you out into _that._ ” She pointed out the window. The rain was still coming down hard enough to rattle the glass slightly. “It’s coming down really hard, and you’re just gonna leave? Let’s, uh, let’s call that one a rain check, huh?” She grinned again at her own joke, and Caleb couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle. “Really, though, it’s fine, I’ll be right back! I don’t much like water, but this’ll be quick.”

“Are you—are you sure? I could get it, if you gave me the money and told me what you want.”

“No, it’s okay! You just sit and eat! Honestly, I was kind of worried about the thought of you being out somewhere alone in all this, really, so I’m glad you’re here.” She smiled again, pulling her shoe the rest of the way back on, and stepped back out the door. “I’ll be right back! You stay there!” 

He was left in the empty apartment again, holding a bag of fast food and blinking in incomprehension. Okay. So. The little goblin did not immediately want him out, that was…interesting. 

Some constantly paranoid part of him whispered that he should be suspicious, that she was so keen on him staying here, but…she had seemed _excited,_ almost, that he was still here. And it was raining very hard—oh, hailing now, too, wonderful, hopefully the convenience store was as close as she had said and she would not be out for long—and, with the bag of food wafting smells up even closer, he was made aware that he was indeed very hungry. 

He gave up. Sat himself down on the couch and reached into the bag, pulling out a handful of fries. Gods, it had been so long since he’d had hot food in his belly. 

True to her word, Nott was back quick, with another bag grasped in her claws and that big smile stretched across her face, making little creases under her bulging eyes. 

With a startling agility, she hopped up onto the arm of the couch, now a bit closer to eye level, and pulled her own meal out of her bag—it looked a lot less appealing than the burger and fries she’d given to him, actually, and he felt a twinge of guilt for it, but she dug in with no apparent hesitation. 

“Hope it wasn’t too boring, being cooped up in here all day,” she said, thankfully after swallowing her first mouthful of food. “I don’t usually spend a lot of time in here during the day, so there’s not much to do, I know, and there’s only one chair, I’m sorry about that, too, um…”

“It is—it is fine,” he said, holding up his hand. “Really, it is. I spent most of the day, ah, sleeping, actually.” 

“Makes sense,” she said, pulling a flask out of the pocket of her hoodie. “You did seem really tired. I was worried I was gonna wake you up when I left this morning, but you were really out! That actually worried me a little more, I checked a few times to make sure you were still breathing. That’s not weird, is it?” 

The little goblin chattered on, occasionally interrupting herself to scarf down some of her own dinner or take a big swig from her flask. (She offered a few sips to him, too; it contained some sort of cheap whiskey, not very tasty but warming). He learned a few things about her, like that she was, by her estimation, about nine years old (which, she assured him, was very much an adult by goblin standards, albeit a young one, and that yes, she was legally allowed to be drinking), and that she apparently did not have a last name (he understood that goblins normally took their clan name as a surname, but when her lack came up, she became visibly uncomfortable, so he quickly changed the subject), and that this part of town mostly housed the less…common races, which was why she had asked him if he was lost. Not many humans at all around here, it seemed, nor anything so close as half-elves or gnomes or even dragonborn. 

(He also learned that Nott was even kinder than he had initially thought. She waved off any suggestions he made that he owed her anything for the extra night or the food, and if she was bothered by his being there at all, she hid it very well. It had been a long time since he had really had a roof over his head, and longer still since anyone had made him feel truly welcome.) 

 

* * *

Two days at Nott’s house proved a much-needed respite, even with the lights off. He woke up on the third day feeling better rested than he had in years, and with more hope in his heart than he ought to have, considering that nothing about his situation had actually changed. He still was out of leads toward achieving his ultimate goal, still had no idea what came next, was still very lost in more ways than one…but despite all that, he felt…better. Like he could face the world and figure something out. 

Nott seemed almost sad to see him go, and he was sorry to see her frown, but he had to keep moving. 

“I have already overstayed my welcome,” he said, with a sad smile. And besides, he had no more little baubles worthy of her collection. More importantly, he had to keep moving, keep running—he’d avoided being found so far by always staying ahead, by never remaining in one place long enough to be found. Two days in one place was not such a risk, but he needed to go before it began to feel too much like home. 

“I mean, that’s…Hm. Well, um. If you ever need a dry place to sleep, you’re welcome back,” she said, wringing her hands. 

Caleb shook his head. “I would not want to impose further,” he said. “You have already been far kinder than I deserve.” 

“It’s no trouble, really,” she said. “It was, um, it was nice to…it’s no trouble.” 

He attempted a small smile and hoped it looked sincere. “I’ll see if I can find something a little better than a button to pay you with, maybe?” 

He got a small, cautious smile in return that looked about as sincere as his felt. “…Sure,” she said. And then, smaller still, “Take care, Caleb.” 

“You too,” he said, and walked away. 

 

* * *

He really had meant for that to be the end of it. He at least left Nott’s home with an idea of what he would do next—he needed to get his hands on enough money to get by. He didn’t want to stay in a shelter—had no idea if they would be looking for him there, five years after he’d run, but he couldn’t take the risk. He couldn’t be found, not now. So that would mean finding a cheap enough motel. He’d survived winters that way before, earning some extra cash through a combination of performing minor tasks (usually magical) for a few bucks here and there, and, when necessary, outright scamming people. 

He’d been doing alright at it. But he was still struggling to motivate himself to do so, still constantly fighting off the thoughts pointing out how easy it would be to just give up and let winter claim him this year. It was an uphill battle, and he was so, so tired, and his ultimate goals, the thoughts that had kept him warm through the nights for all this time, felt further away than ever. 

And then, three weeks after he had left the goblin’s home, a terrible, dark front of clouds loomed in the sky, creeping closer by the minute. As he passed by a young couple, he heard them whispering about how they would need to get groceries, because the news had been saying that this storm would be a truly terrible one. 

Frightened, he kept his ears open, and learned that the first snow of the year was coming early, and it would hit hard when it did. Days, they were saying. Maybe a full week.

He didn’t have the money he’d need to stay in a motel room to survive through that, he knew he didn’t. 

…But he did have some odds and ends that might help here. A pair of earrings he’d managed to steal that on closer inspection had turned out to be made of glass, but were still shiny enough that Nott might like them; a bit of satin ribbon he’d found that was clean and colorful; a few other such baubles that could strike her fancy—hell, he did even have a bit of money if she asked for it this time. 

The first few snowflakes made up his mind for him. He had to go back, or die in the snow. 

The light outside the alley still hadn’t been re-enchanted, and looked to have burned out entirely. It should have been on by the time he got there, soaked through in the thinner parts of his ratty coat from the now thickly falling snow, but the alley was dark. He thought to risk a few dancing lights to brighten his path, but decided against it in favor of the lighter in his pocket. People might pay a filthy beggar no mind, but they’d show a lot more interest if he suddenly started casting spells. 

It was also going to make getting up into her apartment harder, however. The fire escape ladder was folded up, well out of his reach. He looked warily back to the street outside and saw no one. He remembered the ladder had been just low enough that Nott had been able to grab something out of his hand while hanging from the bottom rung, so maybe it was within jumping distance? 

He clicked the lighter off and returned it back to his pocket, looking at the lower rung. It was…it was pretty high up, he could see that even in the dying light of day, hm. And he was already very cold, but…

His first jump ended with him falling backwards into the snow on his ass, nowhere near reaching the ladder, and now even more cold and wet. He sighed. Okay. New plan. 

There was plenty of trash in the alley, still; some boxes and a couple of trash cans. He could maybe build up to it. Some of the boxes, though cardboard, were miraculously dry enough that they might not collapse under his weight… 

And they didn’t, not right away. No, that only happened after he’d managed to just barely stretch out the fingers of one hand to reach the ladder, causing him to flail at the lack of balance. In quick succession, he managed to knock over a trash can with his foot, jerk the ladder in just the wrong way so as to cause it to vibrate angrily against the metal frame of the fire escape, and, due to the snowfall making the ladder a nightmare of wet metal, lose his grip and fall to the ground with a muffled thud and a loud, involuntary curse.

…Well, uh, she probably knew he was here now. 

As did just about everyone in the building, judging by the number of eyes he saw appearing at windows. An orc, just one window over from the one he knew to lead into Nott’s home, opened his own window and leaned out it, snarling. “Hey, what’re you doing?” he snapped, the pair of spectacles perched on his face doing little to distract from the impressive pair of tusks jutting out of his lips. 

Caleb tried to stammer out an excuse, but, to his relief, Nott’s window was the next to open. 

“What’s going on?” she said, peering out. 

“Some guy’s fuckin’ around in the alley,” the orc said, gesturing angrily at Caleb. 

Nott narrowed her eyes, looked down, spotted Caleb, and, to his relief, broke into a huge smile. “Caleb!” she said, beaming. 

“Hallo,” he said, weakly. A lot of the eyes peering down at him were very definitely not human, hoo boy. “I, ah, I could use that dry place to sleep, if the offer still stands?” 

The orc squinted at him as he spoke, and turned to Nott. “Friend of yours?” he said. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” said Nott, distracted. “Hold on, Caleb, I’m gonna put some shoes on and then I’ll let the ladder down for you, okay?” 

“Thank you,” he said. It was really, _really_ cold out, and that second fall had made him _really_ wet. 

The orc threw one last look at Caleb, seemed to decide that the scruffy man was not his concern, and ducked back into his home. Nott stepped out a moment later and hurried to unhook the ladder, and Caleb wasted no time climbing up, almost slipping at one point. 

“You know, the front door to this building isn’t actually locked?” she said, laughter in her voice as she bustled him into her apartment. “I’m room 3B, like I told you, you can just come in and walk up, and if I’m not here you can just wait in the little waiting area they have up near that door. You don’t have to clamber up the fire escape every time you come here.” 

“Oh,” said Caleb, feeling very cold and wet and foolish. 

“Well, regardless,” she said, closing the window behind them, “I’ve got some towels, hold on, let’s get you dried off.” 

“Please,” he said, trying to figure out what it was about the room that looked different to him. There was…something… Nott scurried off, chattering happily about how she’d been worried about him, a bit, what with this big snowstorm, and was so happy to see that he was okay. He tuned her out a bit, trying to pin down what it was that was throwing him off. There was…there was an extra chair at the table, but that couldn’t be what was bothering him. Had she gotten a new couch, maybe? No, it was the same one, ripped in all the same places as before, but it looked brighter in color.

Oh, _that’s_ what it was. 

“You got the lights back on,” he said, smiling to himself. The apartment felt warmer, too; she must have heat as well, now. The window still felt drafty, but it was warmer in here, definitely. 

“Yeah!” Nott chirped from the bathroom. “Got my first paycheck from the new job just in time to get everything back on, which means I can actually give you something hot for dinner tonight, too, without having to go out and get wet!” 

“That is very much a relief,” he said, bending down to get off his soaked-through shoes. Nott came running back out of the bathroom, arms piled high with a bunch of ragged but serviceable towels, and set about helping him out of his equally soaked coat. One of the towels was thrown his head before he had a chance to protest her very exuberant attempts to get the moisture out of his tangled hair. 

She kept chattering on, about how the new chair had been a recent addition, found broken but one of the other residents had helped her fix it a new leg, and about how she’d gotten an extra pillow, too, with some money she’d had left over, just in case Caleb had come by again—“I was worried, you know, when you didn’t come by again for so long, I’m glad you’re okay”—and about how another family in the apartment was hoping to move out, and endless questions about what he’d been up to, and on and on. 

It struck Caleb very suddenly that she was far more happy to see him than he’d been expecting. Really, he’d assumed she’d find him more of a nuisance, but was glad to know that wasn’t apparently the case. And her joy was sort of…infectious, in a way. It warmed him almost as much as the microwave-ready bowl of soup she handed him once he’d mostly dried off. He almost forgot to dig out his little collection of baubles out of one of his coat pockets, and when he did, for a moment, she seemed to hesitate. 

She picked out the two earrings, and smiled at him, and told him that he was staying until the storm passed, even if it took a few days like everyone was saying it would, and that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

He found he didn’t have it in him to argue. 

 

* * *

Staying with Nott became more…normal, after that. He still left most days, unwilling to stay in one place for long when keeping moving had kept him safe for so long. But this autumn was proving to be a cold one, and having a consistent shelter was not to be ignored. Nor was he going to turn down a free meal, for that matter. And Nott was _safe._ The people after him would never consider employing a goblin, and, as Caleb quickly learned, Nott had not even been born when…when his troubles started. He felt, at least for now, that it was safe to stay with her when he needed to. Just as long as he was in Zadash. Just until he got what he needed. 

Whatever it was that that was. 

It was…a struggle, still. He tried to keep telling himself that he just needed to make enough money to survive the looming winter, but…somehow it became easier to focus more on gaining enough little trinkets to earn his place with Nott. He took more notice of his surroundings, always looking for something that might capture her interest and pocketing them whenever he could. 

And she was always so happy to see him, for some reason. Perhaps the little baubles really did mean so much to her? 

Whatever the case might be, stopping by Nott’s home was becoming a habit, and on one of those evenings, coming in seeking shelter from the cold, he had his first real conversation with another human in quite some time. 

The man was middle aged, fairly average looking on the whole, and he stopped Caleb one day as he was entering the building from the front entrance. A couple of the apartment’s residents he’d seen a few times in passing seemed to be talking quietly to each other in the hallway where Caleb understood the mailboxes were kept; a huge gnoll in a trenchcoat and a minotaur that lived next to Nott, on the opposite side of her from the orc. They both got even quieter when the man approached Caleb, seeming to be watching them. 

“Hey, there’s no vacancies here,” the man said. “And even if there was, you can do better than this dump, get on out.” 

“I am—not looking to move in,” Caleb said, cautiously. “Why is it of any importance to you? Are you the landlord?” 

“Sure am,” the man said, “And I don’t allow people to stay overnight in the lobby, either. Get on your way.” 

“I’m not—I have a, ah, open invitation,” Caleb said, growing frustrated. “With one of the residents. We are…friends, and she lets me stay with her sometimes.” 

“Oh, shit, you’re that freeloader who’s been staying with the goblin?” the man said, folding his arms. “I figured you’d be one of their lot, not a _person._ ” 

Caleb felt his face contort in confusion. 

“You are human, right?” the man said. “Because if not, you and your little friend owe me a shitload of backpay on rent.” 

“I am…human, yes.” 

The man stared at him for a second, and then snorted. “Well, shit,” he said, “Didn’t think there was a human out there who’d willingly stay in this place, but, hey, every day you learn something new, huh?” 

Caleb’s eyebrows drew together. “I am…fairly certain I’ve seen a couple humans here,” he said. “A couple, I thought.” 

“Werewolves,” said the landlord. “S’ just you. Only human living here.”

“I do not…live here,” Caleb said. “I just stay sometimes. With a friend.” 

“Whatever.” 

“You are not going to increase Nott’s rent over me being here, are you?” 

“Not unless you turn out to be a shapeshifter,” the guy said. “I don’t pay the fuckin’ utilities, it don’t cost me nothing if some weirdo wants to hang out with a bunch of monsters.” 

Caleb flinched slightly and narrowed his eyes. He wanted to say something, but…decided to hold his tongue. The man might take it out on Nott. That was the trouble with people of his sort, they tended to use what power they had cruelly, and Nott did not deserve it.

“Right," was all that Caleb said. 

The landlord shrugged and headed out the door. “Well, I’m sure as shit not sleeping here,” he said, waving without turning around. “Good luck, buddy. Don’t get eaten.” 

For a moment, Caleb was…thoughtful. But whatever line of thinking he may have followed was interrupted by the weight of eyes on him. Turning, he saw that the minotaur and the gnoll had given up all pretense of talking to each other, and were watching him. The minotaur, a short-furred creature with a broken horn, was stirring a cup of tea, but the gnoll was the one that made Caleb deeply uncomfortable. Her eyes were hidden between a great mop of scraggly fur, and two big fangs jutted out from her lower jaw, even with her mouth closed. 

It was not as if it was the first time some of the residents of the building had regarded him with such suspicion. They all did, really, aside from Nott; even the two who he had thought were humans—the werewolves. Everyone watched him with a wary sort of patience. But the gnoll’s gaze, unseen as it was, felt full of an almost _malice._ It frightened him, for reasons he could not explain. 

Caleb hurried upstairs, and glanced back only once, to see the gnoll had walked to the base of the stairs and continued staring after him until he was safely around a corner and out of sight. 

He asked Nott about the gnoll that night. Nott was often happy to chat about the other apartment dwellers. The minotaur, Beck, had apparently been the one to help her fix the new chair she had, and the orc on the other side of her was the Zhal she had mentioned in her first note, a nice enough fellow who let her borrow his microwave and fridge when she didn’t have any power. But when Caleb asked about the gnoll, Nott went quiet. 

“That’s Girrak,” she said, softly. “She helped me pick out some furniture from a dump when I first moved in, and her and Beck helped me get it up the stairs.” 

“She is alright then?” 

“Um,” said Nott. “You should maybe…just stay out of her way. She doesn’t like…” Nott swallowed. “She might not care for you, as much?” 

“Oh,” said Caleb.

 

* * *

He was staying over at Nott’s place during one particularly cold stretch of days when, in that evening, she came home looking frustrated and miserable to a degree he’d not yet seen in her. He was stretched out on the couch, looking over his journal, when the sound of the door slamming shut drew his attention to her. She kicked off her shoes, grumbling to herself and already fishing the little flask he’d seen a few times out of a pocket. Her ears were drooping and her hood drawn down low over her face. 

“Are…are you alright?” he asked, watching carefully. 

“I’ll be a lot better when the booze kicks in,” she grumbled. Then sighed. “Hold on, I’m just gonna…are you okay if we just go with popcorn for dinner? I’m—ugh.” 

“That is…fine,” he said. 

“Sorry,” she said, shoving a bag into the microwave and taking another huge draft from her flask. “Bad day, is all.” And to herself, she muttered, “Someone’s car keys at work go missing, so of course, everybody’s gotta point fingers at the goblin. Nevermind that the car’s too fucking big for me to drive even if I had a license, which I don’t, because you need a fucking last name for one of those, probably. Anyway the stupid keys always show up in the same place, she loses them every few days, but do we check first? No! Gotta hold the goblin upside down and shake her to see if anything falls out!! Because everyone knows goblins just have to take everything shiny, right? Fuck you, the only thing more shitty and uninteresting than your stupid keys is _you—_ “ 

“I am…pretty sure what you are describing is some sort of discrimination,” Caleb said, from the couch. The popcorn felt like it drowned him out, but apparently Nott heard enough of it to make out the main gist. 

“Oh, it probably is,” said Nott, getting more visibly angry. “But what the hell am I gonna do it? We can do whatever we want to Nott, she’s all alone out here and too little to really fight back, and if we does we’ll just report her!!” Another swig, and then she pulled the bag angrily out of the microwave and stomped over to the couch, crawling with much less grace than usual onto the arm. “And thats—the one time I try to just, tell them, hey, let’s maybe check the place where the stupid keys always wind up! Everyone’s like, see that? She’s hiding something! Now we have to check her locker, she wants to fish them out to find another hiding place, she totally took them! So now I _have_ to let them check my locker, which, guess what, the stupid keys aren’t there!! But there is _a_ ring of keys, because I’m a _fucking janitor, Karen, that’s why there’s a ring of keys in my stupid locker,_ and she makes a big fuss out of it and when I call her a bitch she tells our boss that I _attacked_ her and now I’m out of a fucking job again!!” 

Nott ripped the bag open, making a mess, and shoved it into Caleb’s hands. “Ugh, here, I’m not hungry,” she said.

“Wait, you—you were fired?” he asked. 

“Sure was!! Look how completely unsurprised everyone is! Nott got fired again! Woooow!!” She flailed her arms, spilling a few drops of whiskey on the couch. “Now I gotta—now it’s time for the good old job hunt again! Better hope I don’t get stuck working at the shitty fucking factory again!!! Will I be able to keep the lights on for more than one gods damned month? Who knows!!!”

It struck Caleb, just then, how little he actually knew about Nott. Which…suited him fine, they did not ask each other for a great deal of personal information, and that mutual respect of privacy was part of why he felt so safe her. But. Somehow, the realization that he really only knew her age and that she lived alone bothered him. He didn’t know what she was talking about here, although he could very easily guess, but it all painted a very different picture of what her life was than he had been imagining—and with that thought he realized that he’d scarcely been imagining her life outside of interactions with him at all. What was she doing, out in the world every day? What led someone like her to take pity on someone like him?

Maybe he was getting a little more fond of her than he wanted to admit. Hm. 

She took another big swig of alcohol and heaved an angry sigh between her teeth. “And as if all that isn’t enough, I had to—this lady, on the bus, the whole way back, just kept glaring at me, and holding her kid to her chest,” she said, swinging the little flask, “Like she thought—Like I was gonna, gonna steal and eat her kid with the whole fucking world watching! I don’t even know if goblins ever actually _did_ that but we sure as hell don’t do it anymore!” Nott sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “And, and, fuck, lady, I don’t wanna look like this either! I’m fucking—I’m unhappy about all of _this,_ ” she gestured at herself, and Caleb felt his heart break for her a little bit, “enough without everyone’s eyes always—ugh! I can feel it, you know? I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, all the time, even when people are too polite to look! I know what I look like to them, like I’m some—a monster stepped straight out of all their old books and movies and stories, something walked straight out of the past ready to kill and murder and eat everything, and, and…” 

Two things were very apparent at this point: Nott was being very genuine, to a degree that was painful to watch and desperately uncomfortable, and she was very, very drunk. 

Caleb felt like he maybe shouldn’t be listening to this. He was planning on leaving eventually, and this was very very personal. 

But he couldn’t _not_ listen either, not when she seemed to need someone to talk to so badly. 

So he sat in silence and let her talk. 

“D’you know another goblin told me I was making him look bad once?” she said in what was half a sob and half a laugh. “I was—I was new in town, and I saw him on a subway, and, and he was one of the, you know, he came from one of the families that try really hard to blend in, so he had good teeth and good ears and he stood up straight and he had a nice suit on and, and he was the first goblin I’d seen since coming here. So I tried talking to him, but he kind of ignored me at first, and, and then he hissed at me to go away, because I’m a, because I look _feral.”_ Another sniffle. “I mean, he didn’t use that word, he just, he just said I was making him look bad and to go away, but I knew what he meant by it, and it _hurt,_ but he was right and I hate it and I hate this…” 

Caleb felt himself flinch at how easily she dropped what he understood to be very much a slur towards some of the more monstrous races. He refrained from commenting. 

“I didn’t choose this, you know?” she said. “It’s not like I have any control over it, it’s not like I want to have holes in my ears and bad teeth, and—and I tried moving more like, less like an animal, so that people wouldn’t be scared of me, but I have to concentrate on it so hard and the moment I slip everyone knows, and it doesn’t even matter because of the teeth and the ears and the scars and—I tried so hard, Caleb, and I couldn’t do it, and I don’t know what people want from me?” 

“I think,” he said, as gently as he could, “I think that you have maybe had too much to drink, Nott.” 

Nott sniffled. “Fuck, yeah, probably,” she said. She drained the rest of her flask anyway. 

“Really, though, you are not…I do not think you are scary at all,” he said, hating how hesitant his own voice sounded. “I’ve met some very friendly cats with holes in their ears, and, um, you are—you’ve been very kind. It sounds like you have had a bit of bad luck, maybe, but I’m sure most people don’t think you are so bad.” 

She responded with a withering look. When he added nothing on for a moment, her expression softened to a very sad almost affection, and she laughed humorlessly. 

“Oh, gods,” she said. “Oh, gods, you really believe that, that’s adorable.” 

“I…what?” 

“That’s what I like about you, though, you know?” she hiccuped. “You don’t—I thought you were maybe just being nice, before, but it’s like you really don’t care. And you, you let me ramble about whatever stupid thing, and it’s. It’s nice.” 

“I do not think the things you say are stupid,” he said, uselessly. But Nott didn’t seem to be listening anymore. 

“I’m—I’m going to bed,” she slurred. “I’m gonna sleep this off, hopefully. Ugh.Gotta. Gotta go job hunting again tomorrow and hope I don’t get stuck back at the stupid fuckin’ factory.” 

“I…okay. Sleep well,” he said, as she limped out of the room. He wished he could think of something better, but, gods, how did you tell someone that the coldness they feared was likely all in their heads? 

“Doubt I will, but thanks for hoping,” she mumbled. 

Nott slept in late the next day. Very late. Normally, she had left the house well before he woke up, but he was already up and making himself coffee by the time she stumbled out of her room. 

She avoided eye contact with him for a long while, making herself some sort of breakfast out of some scraps of meat she had in the fridge. He didn’t ask her what kind of meat it was. Apparently, she sometimes ate the mice that went after her food, so it could really be anything. 

Eventually, she seemed to get up the nerve to break the silence. “So, um,” she said, wringing her little hands, “I’m really sorry about last night. That was…a lot, I know, and I shouldn’t have just dumped it on you like that out of nowhere.” A nervous, apologetic smile flashed across her face without quite reaching her eyes. “It’s been a while since I really had someone to talk to, you know? The other people who live here are nice, but we’re none of us really _friends,_ exactly, we help each other with little things sometimes but otherwise everyone keeps to themselves, and…I still shouldn’t have just vented at you out of nowhere like that.” 

“Oh, that is alright,” he said.

“You sure?” 

“ _Ja,_ it’s fine,” he said, grasping for a way to maybe lighten the tension up a bit. It had been…uncomfortable, but he couldn’t fault her for needing to talk. And, anyway, arguably that was just a small price for staying here, right? “We can just call it yesterday’s rent, maybe, and leave it at that.” 

Her smile might have wavered, a little bit, and maybe her ears drooped just a touch. “Sure,” she said, a little quieter. 

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“I um. I have to go job hunting,” she said at last. “There’s a place that’s always hiring, but I don’t want to go there if I can help it, it’s a ways out of town and it’s…not great…” 

“You mentioned a factory last night?” 

“That’s the one, yeah,” she said, pulling a face. “Um. Wish me luck!” 

“All the best,” he said, as she fumbled her shoes on and headed out the door. 

(It was not the last time she came home so miserable, but the next time it happened, she simply refilled her flask from a bottle of whiskey hidden in a cabinet and silently retreated to her room. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d gotten something wrong. Perhaps he was overstaying his welcome.) 

 

* * *

His worries that he had stayed too long were strong, but stronger still came the turn for the cold. With still nowhere near the kind of money he’d need to survive on his own, and the chill having settled in to stay, he ended up sleeping on Nott’s couch more often than not. Mostly he only left to visit a local library—the only security camera he could see appeared to be broken, and there were computers that you could use for a quarter of an hour at a time even without a library card; perfect to get in some research for someone with a memory like a steel trap. (Even if the things he learned did not much help him. It was so hard to find what he needed, why did he even try?) 

After a time he settled instead for using some of the meager cash he’d gotten together to buy some used books—not spellbooks or anything of the sort that could be called useful, but they were…distractions. If he was to be locked in for the winter, he’d need something to stave off boredom. 

Especially with Nott sporadically coming home late. 

Before, she’d always managed to come home at right about the time she said she would be back on the little note she always left for him, but now, with this new job—she’d managed to avoid having to go back to the factory, at least—there would be some days where she’d be at least a half hour late, typically closer to an hour. Something about the bus home leaving at right about the same time she got out of work. 

She seemed to have found someone else to give her a ride, at least—the vehicle changed between a black van and a dark green truck, but Caleb had seen the same tiefling wave her off from the front passenger seat each time she’d been dropped off. All the same, Caleb couldn’t help worrying, a bit. So he’d taken to waiting down in the small windowed room at the front of the apartment building, where he could safely watch to see her come in. It didn’t help much, but it made him feel a little better. If she didn’t come home, he’d be out of a warm place to sleep, and…the thought of her out and alone and hurt or worse in such a large, unforgiving city made him feel deeply uneasy. 

Really, if it came to that, he would be alright. He’d survived harsh winters before. But little Nott did not deserve to be alone out in the cold. 

It was on one such night, some five weeks since she’d gotten the new job, that he was snapped out of the usual almost-trance he fell into, staring out the window onto the empty streets, by a heavy _thump_ from the other side of the tiny room. 

The waiting chamber had two benches parallel to each other. He was sitting on one, and now, on the other, staring intently at him with eyes hidden beneath a mass of bedraggled fur, was Girrak the gnoll. 

She didn’t have her usual trenchcoat on. At this late hour (10:23, the last bus near Nott’s workplace left that stop at right about 10, she must have missed it again), the gnoll was probably getting ready for bed; her clothing seemed to support that theory, being about as loose as she could probably have found. But with the coat gone, it was abruptly very clear that the coat had not been as bulky as Caleb had thought. Girrak was simply _huge._

Caleb nodded at her in acknowledgement. She grunted back. 

That was apparently all the ‘hellos’ she had the time for. 

“You’re becoming quite the fixture around here,” she said. To describe the sound as gravelly would be an understatement. Her voice had the texture of a landslide. 

“Well,” he stammered, “It is, ah, it is getting cold, and I have no place of my own, so.” 

Girrak snorted. “And this was the place you decided on?” she said, incredulous. 

“It, ah, it is—”

“Look, human,” she said, leaning forward. He unconsciously shifted back a little tighter against the wall. “I’m not gonna call us a family in this building, because we ain’t. But we look after each other, because no one else is gonna fucking bother. And so far, everyone’s tolerated you because, well, if little Nott wants to take in a stray, that’s her business. But I ain’t nice, like they are, and I’m sick of seeing you hanging around in one of the only spaces we got left, even if it is a fucking shithole.” 

He was sort of grateful that her mane disguised her eyes. It made it easier to stare there, instead of down, as he usually would. Easier to ignore the huge teeth. “You are…you are saying a whole lot of ‘us’ and ‘them,’ as though we are all separate,” he said. “As far as I can tell, all of us here are a little down on our luck, no?” 

The gnoll nearly made Caleb jump with the fearsome snort she let out this time—maybe it was some word in gnollish, instead? “Don’t try to be _cute,_ you know damn well what I’m talking about,” she spat, with an almost physical force. 

“I do not.” 

“We’re all _monsters,_ you horse’s ass.” 

Caleb looked down and to the side, a wry smile on his face. Softly, he said, “Then I assure you, I am in exactly the right place.”

“Shapeshifter, are you?”

“No. I am—I’m not monstrous in the literal sense, but I—”

**_SLAM_**

 

 

A dark blur whizzed past his head, slamming into the wall with enough force to rattle the glass of the window. Suddenly, there was a hand bigger than his entire skull planted on the wall alarmingly close to his head, and Girrak was very, very close, and so much bigger still now that she was evidently no longer peaceful. Caleb could feel his heartbeat in his throat, in his _fingers,_ even. 

“Is this a fucking _game_ to you, or are you really this stupid?” Girrak snarled, and oh, if he’d thought her voice was rough before…Now, with a real growl woven in, it was made of the stuff of every child’s nightmare of a monster in the dark, low and full of menace. Up this close, he could finally see one of her eyes, a yellow glare fixated on him, and he glanced away from eye contact, but there was nowhere to look that didn’t terrify him even further.

He stammered, but nothing coherent came out. Useless. 

“I’m not talking about your fucking _baggage,_ human,” she growled. This close he could see gray hairs scattered heavily around her muzzle and mixed in with her mane. She must be getting on in years, a very detached part of his brain thought, whilst the rest hysterically fixated on the visibly flexing muscles in her jaw. She could almost certainly crush his skull like it was made of damp cardboard. “We’re not here because we fucking _deserve_ to be, none of us _chose_ this. We’re here because we’re too broke to pay our way out, and too ugly for anyone to help us. But you?” She lifted a heavy, heavy claw, and prodded his chest, and his eyes locked onto it, helplessly. “If you fuckin’ took a damn shower and got some decent clothes from charity, you’d have a thousand times a better chance of getting a decent job and apartment than the best of us after a full day of prettyin’ up.” 

“I’m—I did not mean to imply that you all—”

“What the fuck _did_ you mean, then, human? Did you fucking think at all? No, because you don’t have to think about it. We ain’t got a _choice._ ” She took a step back, and Caleb remembered how to breathe, but kept his eyes fixated on the floor between her massive paws. “This place is terrible, but it’s all we _got._ We don’t fucking want to be here, but we are, no matter how hard we try. Every once in a blue moon, someone’ll get a miracle and go somewhere better, but the rest of us are all trapped here, because people just like you figure you can use us and then toss us to the side, because ain’t nobody gonna help us.” She gestured widely, every word bringing more of her teeth into view, every sweep of an arm bringing the claws in an arc alarmingly close to Caleb’s throat. “Zhal’s a fuckin’ _computer technician,_ probably a damn good one, but because he’s a big orc he gets paid half of what humans get and probably a quarter of what he deserves, and he can’t get a better place even though he can afford it because nobody’ll take him. The poor Robinsons almost got out, almost got into someplace decent so they can finally raise some damn kids together, but someone outed them as werewolves and they got dumped right back here—”

“That—that can’t be legal,” Caleb stammered. He could feel his mind fighting to escape his body, and desperately tried to pin it down, needing to be in the moment if he was to survive, but it was escaping, he was feeling full of air and untethered from reality itself, and it was almost a relief, because reality right now was full of snapping, crushing teeth, “That’s—you can’t tell someone they aren’t allowed to live somewhere just for something like that, not when there’s medications to help people with, with more aggressive tendencies control them—”

“So what?” Girrak snapped, leaning in close again and sending Caleb cowering even deeper into his coat. “What’re they supposed to do about it? You really think anyone living here can afford a lawyer?!”

“I,” he said, before his voice left him again. He could feel her breath on his face, hot and damp and _smothering._

“And then there’s little Nott,” Girak said, leaning back just enough to give him room to breathe but still looming. “Poor goblin gets stuck out on her own. No last name, which means no clan, none that’ll take her back, at least. All on her own in a great big world. Can’t hold down a fuckin’ job for more than two months, because people just like _you_ see her, see how desperate she is, and just know that they can give her whatever shit jobs for worse pay they like, and then kick her to the curb when they find someone prettier, because she’s too small and too scared to fight back, and just scary enough that no one else is gonna stick up for her.” 

Again, she leaned in, slower this time, her nose nearly touching his skin. He held his breath, looking desperately down at the bench and trying to meld himself into the wall. Quietly, like the very whisper of death, Girrak said, “And I can’t do anything about all that, because you humans run the fuckin’ world. We try to fight back with force, you’ll label us exactly the monsters you always saw us as and kill us. We got no choice but to stay right in whatever cracks you leave for us. But you? You’re just some hobo no one’s gonna miss. You come in here, latch yourself onto the most vulnerable person here, suck her dry because she’s too nice to turn you out…” She grinned, and whatever blood was still in Caleb’s face _fled._ “But I’m not nice at all. You, I can do something about.” 

Caleb managed to strangle the whimper trying to force its way out of his throat into a very shaky breath, and said nothing. He was trembling, probably visibly. This was it, this was how he died—

Girrak pulled away, her grin dropping into a scowl, and moved back towards the interior of the building. She paused at the door, turned her head back, and spat, “Get your shit together or _get out,”_ and stomped heavily back to her own apartment. 

 

* * *

Girrak’s words flew around in his head for some time afterward, dancing out of his grasp and taunting him endlessly. He had thought she must be exaggerating—he _wanted_ her to be exaggerating, didn’t want the friend he was, despite himself, coming to care about very dearly to be in such a rotten situation, but, nearly two months to the day after she had gotten this most recent job, Nott was fired again, and was forced to go back to the factory she so loathed. 

She didn’t tell him why she’d been fired this time, only that it had happened. 

She came home from work at the factory looking so terribly beaten down and exhausted, he considered trying to help her with the job hunting, see if he couldn’t find some place that might take her so that she could get away quicker. 

(He never considered getting a job himself, though. He was here only temporarily, it was foolish to think it would help and presumptuous to imagine himself as some sort of roommate, he was only here for as long as he could buy her favor with little trinkets for her collection, anyway.) 

Still, he caught himself a time or two using his fifteen minutes on the library computer to look at job advertisements. Looking for something that would suit Nott’s skillset. And even if they were not options, he did see one or two that might fit his own. They were off the table, though. He couldn’t stay long enough to have a job. He couldn’t risk it. He had to keep moving. 

He’d been planning on…more of the same ritual, really, when he woke up one morning to see Nott still home, bent over a table and fussing quietly over a mass of papers. 

“So, that’s…Oh, hey, Caleb!” she said, perking up slightly. “Didn’t think you’d be awake so quick, sorry, I’ll try and hurry. I didn’t wake you, did I? Usually you sleep so deeply, I figured it’d be okay, I can move to my room if you want…” 

He easily caught the worried note to her voice. “What is going on?” he asked, dropping his bag gently by the couch. 

“Nothing,” she said, pouring back over her work. “Just bills, you know. We’re probably gonna be without power again this month.” 

He nodded. Not entirely unexpected, given the lost job. 

Anyway, her bills were…none of his business. It wasn’t his place to comment, so he didn’t. 

He set about making himself coffee—wouldn’t be able to do this for a little while, with the power off, he thought, especially since he didn’t feel so comfortable as Nott did to just ask the neighbors if he could borrow appliances like coffee makers and microwaves—and tried to pretend that he wasn’t listening intently to her every muttered word. 

“Gonna need to ask Zhal if I can put the stuff that’ll go bad in his fridge again this month, hm…” Nott said to herself, scribbling something in a notepad that looked to be full of numbers. “Fuck, even without the power, I still might not have enough to keep the heat on, it’s gonna be so cold, I can’t go without heat, oooh…Unless I don’t pay my cell phone bill this month, but—augh, no, I need that, I’ll go crazy if I don’t have that on the bus home from work!” 

She tapped her pen against the table, making small noises to herself. Then, she said, “Um, Caleb? Do you think you’ll be okay if we maybe, um, maybe go for sort of cheaper food this month?” 

“What?” he said, turning toward her. “Uh, _ja,_ if that is what’s needed. Did—did your old job not give you a final paycheck? I would think that you’d be able to—“

“Oh, they did, they did, that’s fine,” Nott said, hurriedly. “That’s not the—um, things just get, more expensive sometimes, you know? It happens! Little bumps in the road, unexpected things, it is what it is.” Much quieter, she added, “Food’s been really expensive, too, which, is my fault. I didn’t factor in that humans are bigger than goblins, so of course you eat more, but that’s okay, we can adapt to that, we’ll work around it.” 

Caleb’s heart sank. He stepped over quietly to peer across the table. 

“It’s been a little, um, normally I only have the heat on when I’m at home, but you’ve been here during the day so I’ve been leaving it on, so that’s been different, too, but again it’s okay,” she muttered to herself, furiously, scribbling out more calculations. “I can just—if we’re a little more careful, maybe we can…” She paused, sighed, let her hand that was on the notepad drop to her lap and her head thunk down on the table. “Maybe I can just work three jobs, magically, somehow, and everything’ll be just fine for once. Gods.” 

He could see the notepad, now. Nott’s handwriting was neat enough that he could easily read it across the table, even upside down. What he was looking at was a wall of calculations, some crossed or aggressively scribbled out. 

Everything was _so much higher_ in the time since he’d taken to staying here near constantly, compared to the older calculations where he could tell she had been on her own. Which was to be expected, of course, that was what happened when another living person entered one’s space for an extended period of time. But. She’d never once complained about him, never even hinted that he was any sort of burden, never asked anything of him, and so somehow he had never thought that sharing what little she had with him might be costing her dearly. 

Seeing it laid out coldly in inarguable numbers made it abruptly clear just how high that cost had been. She’d been just barely scraping by before he came, on so terribly little, and he had—how had the gnoll put it? He’d _latched himself onto the most vulnerable person in the complex and started sucking her dry._

He was a _leech,_ was what he was; she’d been endlessly kind to him and all he’d ever shown her in return were—baubles. Trinkets. Useless pieces of nothing, buttons and scraps of fabric, as if she were an easily entertained child instead of someone carrying the weight of a world determined to despise her. 

“It’s fine,” she said, leaning back with a very false smile. “It’s okay. There’s gotta be something I can do here, it’ll work.” 

“I should leave,” Caleb said, softly. 

“You don’t have to, it’s alright,” she said, “I’ll be quick. I’ll be done with this soon and then we can, um, do whatever.” 

Caleb shook his head. “No, I should—I should _go,”_ he said. “I am, I am a drain on you, I’ve been nothing but a black hole on resources you do not have.” 

“What—Caleb, no—“ 

He turned and picked up his bag. He was a fool, really he was, Girrak had been right to be angry at him, all of the people in this apartment complex had been right to stare at him with distrust, he’d been so busy feeling sorry for himself that he’d not even noticed… “You’ll have a much better time taking care of yourself without having to take care of me, too. I am sorry I’ve caused you so much grief.” He turned towards the door, and—

“No!” Nott darted out of the chair and skidded slightly on the badly carpeted floor, trying to block his way out. “Caleb, that’s—you can’t just leave!” 

“I have to,” he said, “I can’t—you have been giving everything you have to help me, and I’ve given you nothing in return. You’ve been so kind, and I don’t deserve any of your pity.” 

“That’s not true!” she said. “You’ve given me plenty, you just don’t—gods, Caleb, please!” 

“What’s so special about a handful of scraps of—of whatever that I’ve found laying around? That’s not enough to help maintain a home, it’s hardly worth anything!” 

“For _fuck’s sake,_ Caleb, this was never about the—the ‘ _rent_ ’,” she snapped. “I was never going to let someone freeze to death right under my window! I just made up the stupid paying rent thing so that, so that it’d feel less weird for both of us, because we were strangers and I was inviting you into my house and it felt weird for me and I was sure it did for you too, so I figured it’d be, it’d make it more of a transaction, and then you had so little and, I mean I did kind of like the button a lot? And I figured if I took that it’d make it pretty clear that I wasn’t being all that serious, because it’s just a button, so I—gods, I just didn’t want you to die out there! And then you came back, and I…” 

The bulging, staring eyes, always a bit on the watery side, were threatening to overflow. Nott sniffled. “I’ve been alone for so long now, Caleb, I’m all by myself and that’s never happened before and it’s scary and I hate it! But you kept coming back and you’re never, you never treat me like you think I’m a wild animal that’ll lash out at you if you make a wrong move, the way most people do? And you’re someone to talk to, and it’s, it’s nice having you here, I _want_ you to be here, okay? I don’t give a shit about the rent, or even the actual rent that I really do have to pay, I don’t care about money. I’ll find a way to make that work, alright? Just, don’t…” She wiped her eyes on an oversized sleeve and stared up at him again. He couldn’t meet her gaze. “Caleb, if you…if you really want to go, I won’t stop you, because you—because that’s your business and I’m not gonna force you to stay here. But don’t say you’re doing it for my sake, because I really don’t want you to go.” 

Silence hung in the air, smothering like a shroud. Caleb stood, backpack held in one hand, frozen in shock, mouth dry. 

“It’s not pity,” she said, now staring at the ground, letting big tears roll down her cheeks. “I mean, it was at first, because your clothes are really really bad, Caleb, but I really do like having you here.” 

Silence. 

Again, she spoke. “I don’t know if I can bear being alone again.”

Caleb let the bag slip from his fingers, uncaring as it hit the ground. 

“Okay,” he said, at last, kneeling down slowly. “I’ll—stay.” 

Nott perked up slowly, her ears raising and hope glistening with the tears in her eyes. “Really?” she asked. 

“ _Ja,_ ” he said, “I’m staying.” He didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Nott threw herself into his arms. 

 

 

This couldn’t be forever, a piece of him whispered. Eventually he would have to go. He had to keep moving. The wolves were ever at his heels, and he couldn’t afford to get too comfortable lest they tear him to shreds. 

But. The winter was cold, and he was, for whatever reason, wanted here. So he held her close and let her cry into the shoulder of his beat up coat and thought long and hard about what came next. 

“We are going to have to work out some way to handle the bills,” he murmured, after a few minutes. 

“It can wait a little while,” Nott said, gently. “We have a whole month to work that out. We’ll just…have to spend a lot less this month, while we do that.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “I suspect we’ve both survived worse.” 

 

* * *

He had spent the next nine days planning. It had been a long time, since he’d really felt like there was any purpose to making a plan. 

But he had a new goal, now, too, and that was to find some way of making sure that he at the very least wasn’t going to be leaving Nott worse off than he found her. In the long term, that was probably going to involve finding some way to make sure she could maintain a job that actually paid her well, find some way to make sure she wasn’t at constant risk of getting fired over whatever petty excuse they could come up with to blame on her, and maybe also making sure she had some new friends so that she wouldn’t be so lonely. And on that second front, already there was some hope—she’d been rescued by a whole _crowd_ of people a few days before, when she was the latest from work she’d been yet. And she seemed to like them. Her phone (which she apparently charged at work when the power was off in their home) seemed like it was constantly getting texts from someone called Jester, and every time she got one drew a smile to her face.

It was that night’s frantic three-hour wait that had also pushed Caleb into certainty about what he had to do, though. He had the general gist of the long term, but for now, he needed to get Nott some stability in the short term. 

And for that, he needed to look less like a beggar and more like just…a man. 

He’d used some of the money he’d been saving to get a motel room—wouldn’t be needing that this year, anyway—to get a razor and some shaving cream. Found a charity giving clothes to people like himself, down on their luck and low on funds, and gotten what he hoped would be enough to help him get by; nothing fancy, but serviceable. 

He’d also tracked down a likely job—a small bookstore, owned by an elderly couple, looking for someone who could still climb ladders and help them move some of the heavier boxes. Probably they could do well to have someone with a perfect memory, too. It looked peaceful, the store never getting busy to the point where it would overwhelm him, and more importantly, there were no background checks needed, just a job interview that he needed to get through. 

Which was how he found himself in Nott’s powerless bathroom, lit by some sputtering candles and a flashlight, clean for the first time in quite a while and in the process of trying not to nick himself in very low light conditions. 

He considered not for the first time just throwing caution to the wind and casting Dancing Lights. Decided against it. There was light enough. 

Seeing himself with his hair clean and pulled mostly out of his face was already jarring. Taking the scruffy beard away felt even more so. He’d hidden behind behind all of it, the grime and the scruff and the aura of despair, for years now. They’d kept him safe. It felt almost wrong to shed them now. But he couldn’t very well get a job, even one he intended to be temporary, looking like something the cat dragged in. 

Still, he felt uncomfortable looking himself over once he’d finished. The man staring back at him in the mirror looked far too much like _him,_ albeit with a layer of world-weariness superimposed over the version of himself he remembered from before he’d taken to the streets. The sweater, at least, gave him some degree of separation from all that. Sort of. It was definitely the kind of thing he would not have been caught dead in when he was younger. 

“Gods, I look like a librarian,” he murmured to himself. “…Dress for the job you want, I suppose.” 

Nott was actually startled by his appearance when he stepped out of the bathroom. For a moment, he felt that maybe this had been an escape, but she broke into a big smile and that anxiety melted away. 

“You look great, Caleb!” she said, running up close. “They’ll hire you in a second, I know it!” 

“I certainly hope so,” he said. “I owe you that much, at the very least, for all the kindness you have shown me.” 

Her smile faltered, and she gently tugged one of his hands closer, covering as much of it as she could with her small fingers. “Caleb, listen,” she said, “I’m not going to pretend like this isn’t going to help a whole lot, because it is, but…you don’t _have_ to do this, you know that, right? I’m not going to kick you out in the cold, I don’t want you to feel like this is an obligation, that you have to, to earn being friends…” 

“I know,” he said, kneeling down and resting a hand on her shoulder. “I want to do this, Nott. I do.” 

A little hesitant, her smile returned. “We are friends, right?” she said. 

“Of course.” 

Her little face creased with delight. He stepped back, standing up straight, and said, “Well, I had better get moving if I want to be on time for this interview.” 

“Right,” she said. “And I’ve got some stuff I need to do, too, so, um. Good luck, Caleb!” 

“Thank you,” he said. He reached for his old coat, hesitated, and, with a sigh, grabbed the new one he’d gotten instead. Temporary, temporary, all of this was temporary, he just had to put up with it for a while. 

Just long enough to make things right. Just until everything was better, he would stay. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> fun drinking game: take a shot every time caleb puts his foot in his mouth because hes completely clueless 
> 
> (don't actually do that i dont want anyone to die)


End file.
